


Dangerous Animals

by SubwayWolf



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Wolverine (Comics)
Genre: Anal, Bad Puns, Character Bleed, Crying, Height Differences, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape, Snark, Spit As Lube, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-12 23:02:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2127723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SubwayWolf/pseuds/SubwayWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Victor takes pleasure in bully-ramming Logan upon occasion as an alternative to killing him. Logan conjures up a plan to stop the occurrences, and it just might work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dangerous Animals

Burnt fish.

Logan had quickly learned to despise that scent, however faint, since the first time Victor had found his way into Logan’s apartment and took advantage of him in the most savage way possible. Logan was unsure if Victor even ate fish, but that rancid scent of charcoal-singed white cod was always fuming off of Creed’s wiry coat in what Logan visualized as a thick, black, smoke trail.

Logan cringed as the scent filled his nostrils. Although it was faint, it was slowly growing in intensity, suggesting Victor was approaching, and with a single, vile purpose.

For years now, Creed took pleasure in taking advantage of Logan. Victor would arrive randomly, four or five times in the year, and without warning. He’d ram Logan from behind until Logan bled or hot tears ran from the corners of his eyes, or both.

Creed didn’t do this because he was a malicious, merciless villain. Victor gave a simple reason as to why he repeatedly raped Logan: it was an alternative to killing him. Victor claimed he knew, with information from Stryker, a specific method to kill the supposedly indestructible Logan. Logan, stupidly, took his word for it, telling himself he’d better be safe than sorry. The deal between them was that Logan could save his own hide by giving it up to Victor upon occasion.

Logan moved about the continent frequently for this reason, but predictably Victor always managed to track him down. Logan was unsure why he fled from New York to Houston to Denver to Chicago to Toronto and back to New York again – there was no possible way he could escape Victor and running away just made him seem weak. However, he did it, with that sliver of hope in him that Victor would maybe, just maybe be unable to find his scent this time.

Now, in a small town not far from the borders of Ontario, Logan sat stiffly, frozen in his red oak rocking chair, the scent of that god damned cat burning the inside of his nostrils.

Logan did nothing to stop the occasion. He even sheathed his claws, even though they would literally itch to come out. He figured fighting would only make the experience worse and Victor would punish him for it in the way he knew Logan hated. Logan knew the routine by now: he would bury his face into the sheets, angle his rear end up into Victor’s direction, spread his trembling legs, hold his breath, and wait for it to be over.

But there had to be a way to ease the process.

Logan had been thinking about that in the months leading up to this day. Upon every occasion with Creed, Victor would repeatedly take interest in the tears Logan would reluctantly shed, the brief physical resistance battle they’d have, Logan’s reaction to the spiteful names, or in the blood drawn, all because it turned him on. Logan figured if he stopped these things and all acts similar, Victor would be irritated and not look forward to returning as much as usual. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was a plan.

Victor’s scent was overpowering now. Logan could now here Victor’s footsteps rhythmically crunching snow as he approached Logan’s small cabin. Logan let his eyes fall closed and he took a quiet, calming breath through his nose. It was times like these that Logan wished he didn’t have enhanced senses.

Victor’s weight made the wooden steps of Logan’s front porch screech and creak. Logan took another breath, put the book he was reading on a nightstand beside him, and calmly unbuttoned his wrinkled blue jeans. The scent was now at its peak of intensity, and in result Logan’s heart beat furiously against his chest. Managing to retain the calm look, he tugged his zipper down and began to shift his jeans down his legs.

Victor burst through the unlocked door with a familiar fire in his faltering, golden eyes. Logan refused to look at him. Victor bared his sharp teeth in a small grin as he shut the door behind him, and then approached Logan’s seat beside the fireplace.

“Your jeans are already off,” Creed noted, his typically rough voice sporting a somewhat amused tone. “Saving me some time? Thanks for the favor. Remind me to do you one.”

Logan slid his fingers under the band of his blue boxers and slid the fabric down, dropping it to the floor. The lack of clothing revealed Logan’s uncut, limp cock. It sat atop his supple, swelled sack and rested beneath a dark patch of wiry, unkempt pubes. Logan flushed at his new vu0lnerability. He looked up to Victor with weary eyes, mentally preparing for what was to come.

Victor chuckled inwardly at the sight. “Now that’s what I’m here for.”

Victor undid the buckle of his black pants and then unbuttoned the front. Immediately, his cock fell out, as he was wearing no undergarments. His uncut cock was massive, reddish, and veiny. Above it was a thick, coarse forest of gold-colored pubes. It distinctly reeked of piss, which was yet another vile scent in relation to this occasion.

“Come on, runt,” Victor spat. “You know the drill.” He gestured for Logan to approach him. 

Logan stood up and stepped out of his pants. He moved towards Victor slowly, refusing to look at him, He walked despite every fiber of his being suggesting otherwise. 

Victor’s pants fell to the floor. He shuffled backwards and leaned his back against a wall, bringing a hand up to his jacket and sliding the zipper down to reveal his broad, muscular, hairy chest. “I figured, since we both seem to be in a good mood, we’ll try somethin’ new.” Victor spat on his free hand and brought it down to his cock, wetting it and tugging at it slowly. It went erect in his hand as he looked Logan over, studying every inch of him.

Logan reached Victor, still refusing to look at him. Logan stopped in his tracks and closed his eyes. Victor placed his hands on Logan’s hips. At the touch, Logan froze up and his breath was staggered. He knew what was coming.

Victor’s hands slid from Logan’s hips and down to his bare rear, which he cupped with his hands, getting a firm grip around it. “Up you go,” he muttered, and lifted Logan. 

Logan instinctively latched his legs around Victor’s waist and grabbed the thick, tan leather jacket on Creed’s shoulders. He could feel Victor’s hard cock poking at the start of his hole. Heat flushed up to Logan’s face. He knew what was coming.

“Good boy.” Victor angled his legs forward slightly so his arms didn’t have to do all the lifting.

His claws out, Victor shifted his hands and mercilessly shoved two fingers deep into Logan’s tight hole. Victor had forgotten, or likely refused, to retract his claws, so they were out, ruthlessly, nearly tearing up Logan as Victor spread Logan’s hole in preparation. Logan closed his eyes tightly and grimaced in reaction to the pain, but otherwise showed as little reaction as possible. 

After removing his fingers, Victor smirked. “I think you know what comes next.”

With a quick shift of his hips, Victor rammed his cock deep into Logan. Logan nearly cried out in pain, but held his breath and contained himself. Victor began a rapid in-and-out motion, and Logan, somehow, managed to take it without a whimper or grunt. Best of all, he hadn’t shed a tear.

Victor noticed. “No tears this time, Logan? I’m impressed.” There was a small hint of disappointment in his gruff voice, but it was noticeable.

Logan was impressed as well. His indifferent attitude towards this, although difficult to pull off, was visible to Victor. For now, that was all which mattered.

Victor continued to ram himself into Logan’s tight hole. If Logan were human, his hole would be loosened up from the past fifty-something occasions with Victor. Unfortunately, Logan’s mutant healing factor repaired any torn tissue and with each new penetration, Logan had to endure excruciating virgin pains each time. The constant repairing and destroying of tissue made it difficult to draw blood, but Victor almost always managed. The smell made Victor’s eyes turn back and it made Logan’s fists shake.

Logan, despite efforts otherwise, convulsed in pain each time Victor went deeper. Logan was inadvertently tightening his inner muscles around Victor’s cock and making it harder for him to enter each time. Victor persisted, however, digging his claws deeper into the skin of Logan’s rear end, drawing blood. Thankfully, this was not the kind of blood Logan was used to. 

Victor began to pant slightly from the vigorous effort. Logan was dying to wisecrack something along the lines of “panting is what dogs do, I thought you were a cat” but Logan was silenced by his pact to keep quiet during this escapade.

Logan was tense everywhere, and decided to ease himself into loosening up. He lost all tension, but the pain was still overwhelming. Logan’s dropped his head and rested it on Victor’s chest, which was heaving up and down with his body movements and heavy, worn-out breathing. Logan didn’t actually mind, but took a slight comfort in the rapid, gradually increasing heart rate in his right ear.

This faint act of intimacy, strangely, did not alarm Victor even slightly. He continued on with his motions, and didn’t hesitate or react. He either enjoyed it or was too preoccupied to notice.

Logan, too, strangely enjoyed it. Victor was very warm, maybe from physical exertion or from his - for lack of a better term - fur. Logan eased against Victor, taking advantage of his warmth and listening to that heartbeat. The pounding served as a distraction to the intense pain. He turned his hands inward and gripped gently at Victor’s golden hair. The comfort Logan received from the embrace was unnatural and he wanted to kick himself for it, but these new activities took his mind off the pain beneath him.

The constant pain only worsened with each thrust, and Victor still managed to go deeper. Regardless of Logan’s physical relaxing, the smooth muscles inside Logan persisted in tightening up around Victor’s hot cock, increasing Creed’s pleasure despite Logan’s efforts at the opposite.

Victor then hit deep enough, ramming firmly against Logan’s prostate. Reluctantly, Logan tensed in result, tightly gripping his legs around Victor’s waist, squeezing his eyes shut forcefully, tightening his inner muscles around the foreign fire inside, and tugging firmly on the locks of hair between his fingers. 

It was then that Victor blew his load. Logan shuddered at the warm liquid filling up his hole. Victor kept himself in place, throwing his head back as the tingling afterglow took its transitory effect. Logan breathed a silent breath of relief as Victor removed his cock. 

Victor pushed Logan off but Logan was able to catch himself without falling on his ass. He took a few steps backwards, away from Victor. It was a miracle as to how Logan managed to stand on two feet without collapsing. 

Logan watched intently as Victor chuckled softly to himself, picked his jeans up from the floor, and packed his cock up back into them. “Well, that was… different.” He stated it as if he had to search for that last word. “What happened to that distinctive resistance? That… that feral rage which never seems to go away? It was gone.”

Logan remained silent and watched Victor move, waiting for him to leave. With the pressure of Victor’s rather intrusive cock gone, his cum slowly leaked out of Logan. It progressively trickled down the back of his legs, tickling him annoyingly, but Logan pretended not to notice. 

Victor continued talking as if he hadn’t asked a question or, in the least, expected an answer. “I miss it. It actually turned me on, I think.”

Logan still refused to speak. A sudden, warm resentment flushed through him, so he looked away, thinking it’d calm his anger. It didn’t.

“You’re awfully quiet today, Logan.” As he swiftly zipped up his jacket, he squinted at Logan, studying him. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

That set Logan off. With a faint “snkt”, Logan’s adamantium claws broke his skin and elongated until fully drawn. Logan clenched his fists and bared teeth.

Victor chuckled softly and progressed towards the door, walking around Logan without even as much as a glance. “Expect me soon,” he stated over his shoulder, and exited, letting the door thud closed behind him.

Logan was left in his suddenly silent house. He stood, alone, forgetting to sheathe his claws, as the burnt fish smell grew fainter until ultimately fading completely. But even then, Logan was not satisfied, and he began to anticipate the scent again.


End file.
